Of Cures and Reavers
by Chellerbelle
Summary: In the aftermath of the events of "Courting Trouble", Gambit has a big decision to make.
1. Chapter 1

**AN**

Sequel to _Courting Trouble._ You could probably read this without reading _Courting Trouble_ first, but I wouldn't recommend it. Besides, you'd be spoiling the ending of _Courting Trouble_ for yourself if you did, heh.

**Disclaimer: **Okay so I have had no medical training, because I can't even stomach doing a First Aid course. I've done some research (whoo boy, that's like a walk through a mine field for me, hehe), but I'm probably getting a heap of things wrong. Hopefully my lack of understanding won't ruin the story for anyone. Everything I know about amputees and prosthetics has come from internet research, which I imagine is a lot like using internet translators: you can get by, mostly, but it's a poor substitute for talking to someone who actually knows the language and culture. So, apologises for everything I get wrong there too.

This story has exactly 3 chapters, which will be posted weekly.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Gambit sat, naked, in the Danger Room. A playtest version of the suburbia program was running, but it was only really up for the scenery. He was in no mood to test anything. He was far too busy replaying how he blew up Rogue's arm, over and over and over again.

Dating was off the table. It had been for almost a full two years now. But simply "not dating" hadn't been enough to stop him from becoming overly-attached to someone. It hadn't stopped him from falling for Rogue.

She probably hated him now. He wouldn't blame her. He hated himself.

He should've cut things off with her a lot sooner. He should've left a message for her not to come looking for him, like he surely should have known she would. The decision had been hard enough to make as it was. He really didn't need to argue about it.

The straw that broke the camel's back was the night they saw the video of five Reavers attempting to kill Rogue at the party the parents of her ex-boyfriend Lionel were having. He didn't see more than a few seconds of them shooting at her and chasing her around the room before he'd blown up the TV. At first he'd argued with himself that he would've done the same had it been anyone else, and that may have even been true. But in the end he had to concede that he had been afraid he was going to lose Rogue, and even the fright of that loss was too much for him to bear.

So, while she was in hospital, he'd fixed up the wall between their bedrooms and finally moved out into the old boathouse. It had taken a lot longer than he liked to fix up, but there were other things around the mansion that had to take priority, and the weather had helped to delay things.

He should've asked the others to make sure Rogue didn't come looking for him. He should have…

Gambit wiped his face as the awful moment replayed itself again. He'd never charged up living matter before, and seeing that magenta charge along Rogue's hand terrified him like nothing else. If he couldn't remove the charge from a shirt, he could at least throw the shirt away. But he couldn't just throw Rogue's arm away. And he couldn't remove the charge either.

Normally he would recite recipes to himself when he had to remove a charge, or else remember cooking something. Both had eluded him. He fought and he fought to remove the charge, but the charge had only spread up her arm.

Rogue knew it was a lost cause. She'd moved back, over the old jetty, and stretched her arm away from her body. She'd told him to let go.

Gambit felt the tears pricking at his eyes again and wiped them away angrily. He hated that she had been right to let her arm blow up. He hated that she had been right about him not being able to remove that charge, and that the charge would only get worse and worse. She'd lost her arm, but if he held on much longer, she could've lost her life.

He could still hear her scream, even now. The smell of burning flesh had taken up residence in his nose. Screaming and weeping, she plunged over the side of the jetty into the cold water below.

He grew cold. His fear and anxiety were overcome by numbness.

He plunged in after her and supported her in the water. She clung to him with her good left arm tightly, and he now had bruises where her fingers had dug into him. He didn't care. He dragged her out of the salty water and half-guided, half-carried her into the house and more importantly, the shower. He turned on the cold water and let it run over her burnt and burning arm.

He let the water run over her for a good twenty minutes before he escorted her back to the mansion. Class was in session, so they passed no one in the halls. The hardest part of the trip was taking the elevator down: shut in a room with nothing to do but wait.

Then, at long last, they made it to the medlab. A flash of horror appeared on Dr Ashton's face, and then she was all business attending to Rogue. Gambit backed out of there. The coldness that had got him this far was beginning to thaw.

He practically ran down the hall to the Danger Room. He stopped short at the doors: a class was in session.

The coldness cracked.

He pushed into the control room. He wore a pair of boxers and a dressing grown. He stood there, soaking wet, and his eyes locked with Logan's.

"I blew up Rogue's arm." With those words, he felt the coldness shatter and crumble. Anxiety, distress, shame, self-loathing, and horror all vied for attention.

Logan practically slammed his hand down on the PA button. "Everybody out! Now! Session's over!"

Gambit staggered out of the control room, and into the Danger Room proper. He ignored the students' stares, and the way they ran out the moment they realised his clothing was shining with magenta light.

The Danger Room doors closed again.

His clothes exploded.

And he had been sitting in there, naked, every since. How much time had passed, he didn't know, and he didn't really care. He couldn't figure out which was the greater horror: that he blew up Rogue's arm, or that he could charge up living matter now.

* * *

_"Hi Remy. How are you doing?"_ said Storm's voice over the PA.

Gambit shifted position on the holographic park bench where he'd been sitting.

"How is she?" he asked bleakly. Quiet though his voice may have been, he knew Storm would hear him.

_"Surgery went well. She's resting comfortably," _Storm said._ "And you?"_

Gambit snorted.

"Wishing it was all a dream," he said sourly. "I've never charged living matter before."

He looked down at his hands.

_"I know."_

"You know what this means? The next time Pyro does something to piss me off, I might take out his eye. The next time I have a bad day, I leave burn marks on people's skin. The next time I…" he trailed off as deaths by explosions played in his mind. He took a deep breath. "I think it's time I took the Cure."

It was agony to say those words, but it was a greater agony to regret not taking the Cure while he'd been in the line for it in the first place.

_"I thought you might say that. If I might offer you an alternative?"_

Gambit groaned. This was hard enough as it was. Was it really necessary for Storm to make it harder?

"Storm, please. Rogue lost her arm," Gambit replied, not bothering to hide his frustration. "Isn't that bad enough? I know you hate the Cure, but this is it, okay? This is… It has to be done. Can we please just get it over with?"

_"Dr Ashton has been working on a variant of the Cure using the sample you gave her, and the original research. It is a diluted version that should reduce the amount of power available, without turning you off completely," _Storm said firmly._ "In theory, it should wear off after a period of time. It's too early to say how long that time period would be. The variant is available now."_

Gambit was silent. Now that she mentioned it, he vaguely recalled Spyke telling them about that.

_"You do not have to decide right now,"_ Storm said after awhile. _"Take some time to think about it."_

He sighed. "Don't have too much choice about that. I'm in no state to be handed anything right now. I'll probably blow up anything you gave me."

_"Did you want to talk about it?"_

"No." He huffed. "No, I don't want to talk about it. But I probably should." He stood and began to pace. "I should've told Rogue I was ending things. I should've told her not to come looking. I should've left a note. I should've… I should've something."

_"Yes, you should have."_ Her words twisted the knife in his gut. _"An extra layer of protection always helps. On the other hand, I have my doubts that Rogue would have just stayed away, no matter how earnestly we tried to dissuade her."_

Gambit grunted, not wanting to concede that Rogue could be really stubborn about things at times.

"I could've killed her," he said. "I tried so hard to remove the charge, but it just kept growing instead. She realised I wasn't going to remove it. She told me to let go…" A new round of tears started pricking at his eyes. "Oh… I forgot to tell Dr Ashton. Rogue went into the bay after her arm got blown up. I did get her into the shower, but yeah… Just thought I should mention it in case that increases the chance of infection or something."

_"I'll let Dr Ashton know."_

"Thanks." Gambit sighed as he blinked away the tears. "This was inevitable, wasn't it?"

_"How so?"_

"Sooner or later I was going to find out I could charge living matter," Gambit said forlornly. "If by some chance we'd been able to avoid this, I would've blown up someone else, or maybe even Rogue, on another day."

_"Probably. And if you had only been doing your light line-of-sight charges, we might not have realised what was going on straight away either."_

"Or I could've killed someone," Gambit said, and held back the 'again' that threatened to attach itself to that statement.

_"Or that,"_ Storm replied. _"But this is how it happened, and all the 'what ifs' in the world are not going to change that."_

"I should've just taken the Cure when I had the chance."

There was a long pause, and then: _"All the 'what ifs' in the world cannot change that either." _Storm sighed. _"So now, since you have chosen to take the Cure, it is a matter of which one. And, my own personal biases aside, I recommend taking the variant."_

"Biases aside, huh?" Gambit found that hard to believe. "So, what makes you think, objectively speaking, that taking a highly experimental, never-before-tested, variant of the Cure, is such a great idea?"

_"Because while it is effective, you will be able to practice your emotion control without the constant stress you are currently experiencing."_

"While it is effective. You don't even know how long that will be."

_"Dr Ashton estimates between 6 and 18 months, though as I said, it is too early to be certain."_

"That's a pretty board window."

_"You can retake it, though there will be a point where the Cure will no longer be effective."_

Gambit sighed. "And if that happens, and I don't have control, I'll just be in the same position I am now. I may as well just take the tested thing and be done with it."

_"Remy, I have seen your incident diary. You have been making progress. I know it may not feel that way because your incidents involving Rogue were increasing—"_

"All the more reason why I should've broken things off earlier."

_"—Nevertheless, you are making progress. Would you have all that hard work be in vain?"_

Gambit sighed and closed his eyes.

_"But again, you do not have to make the decision now. Sleep on it,"_ Storm went on gently. _"This is a serious decision and should not be made lightly."_

* * *

_"Hey, Cajun,"_ said Logan's voice over the PA.

Gambit halted and pulled his hand slightly away from the bowling ball he'd been about to pick up.

"Morning Logan," he said.

_"Left breakfast outside the doors for you. Screen's out."_

"Great, thanks."

_"Some of it has to be cooked first, but that shouldn't be a problem for you since you programed a functional kitchen in there and all,"_ Logan said wryly.

Gambit smiled as picked up the bowling ball. "You know something? I think cooking would do me a lot of good right now."

He rolled the ball down the lane. The pins crashed as he knocked them all down.

_"Are you bowling in there?"_ Logan asked.

"Oui. Works pretty good. Couple o' kinks I'll have to reprogram, but otherwise…" Gambit yawned and stretched as he walked towards the front doors.

_"Uh huh. You get any sleep last night?"_

"Sleep?" Gambit replied as he stepped outside. "Oh, yeah, I think I might have gotten some of that done between reliving every time I blew someone up. Computer: Open Doors."

Logan grunted as the Danger Room doors open. Gambit picked up the box that was waiting just outside the door.

"Computer: Close Doors," Gambit said. He sighed as he turned and headed towards the diner with the box. "So much for sleeping on which Cure to take. Storm tell you about that?"

_"Yep."_

"Opinions?" And when Logan didn't reply straight away, Gambit added: "Not asking you what I should do. Just asking you what you think, mon ami."

_"Ain't really qualified, Gumbo. If I take the Cure, I die of adamantium poisoning," _Logan said. _"For me, taking the Cure is a black and white decision. For you? Taking the Cure comes with the usual 'every drug has some side-effects' stuff, but it'll shut your powers down and you'll have to learn how to live without them. Taking the variant might mean your best chance to get control, but it comes with a lot of risks, some of which we probably haven't even identified. And not taking the Cure at all? We know all the risks and we can plan around that."_

"That's not an option. I'll just get more people hurt," Gambit said. He kicked open the door of the diner and headed into the kitchen.

_"Until you make a decision, that's the status quo."_

Gambit sighed. "Okay, point taken. But seriously, what do you think? This isn't just about me, y'know. My life isn't the one at stake here. It's everyone at this school except for you and me whose lives are at stake. Just saying."

He put the box down on the bench and started unloading it.

Logan grunted. _"Just go with your gut."_

Gambit paused in his unloading. "That's it? People's lives are at stake and your advice is 'go with your gut'?"

_"Look, the easy answer is to take the Cure. It won't solve all your problems, but it'll solve the main issue. Thing is, I don't like easy answers. Easy answers like to blow up in people's faces every now and then."_

"No such thing as a sure thing, huh?"

_"Exactly. Sorry, Gumbo. I know you were hoping for something a little more substantial, but like I said, I take the Cure, I die. That's where my gut stands on the issue."_

Gambit sighed and resumed his unloading. "Alright well, thanks Logan. Right now my gut is thinking that it's hungry and would like to eat, so I guess I'll question it further after breakfast."

Logan chuckled. _"You do that."_

* * *

_"How's it going, Remy?"_ Kurt asked through the PA.

Gambit stretched on the lounge where he had been dozing off periodically. "I have decided."

_"Oh? Well, that's good news."_

"I have decided that I need to find a way to import a digital library into this program, just in case someone else needs to hang out here for a day or two. There's a lot of physical activities in this program. There aren't very many mental ones," Gambit said. "Also, we should build some kind of sewerage tank, just in case the next person can't blow up their faeces like I can."

_"Ah."_

"Which reminds me. Should probably give this room a thorough clean before the next class uses it."

_"That might be a good idea, yes."_

"I thought you might feel that way." Gambit grinned. "How's Rogue doing?"

_"Sleeping mostly. I guess she's on some pretty serious painkillers right now."_

"Yeah, probably have to be." Gambit sighed with regret. "Hey Kurt? What do you think? Cure or variant?"

_"Logan mentioned you might ask me that."_

"And?"

_"Well, my own difficult decision making process involves praying first, and then figuring out which option would best serve God," _Kurt replied._ "Now, I know you're lapsed, so that may not suit your, ah, disposition, so perhaps try to figure out what your ideal goal is, and then figure out which option best suits that."_

Gambit was quiet for a moment. "We don't live in an ideal world, Kurt."

_"No, we don't. Life would be so much easier if we did. But life is not easy, and so every choice we makes matters,"_ Kurt said firmly._ "And I do mean every choice, no matter how small. Small things have a habit of adding up into big things."_

Gambit grinned. "Well, that's true enough. Thanks Kurt. I think I know what I'm going to do."

_"Would you like me to get Storm or Dr Ashton?"_

"In an hour. I want an hour to be sure."

_"Of course."_

* * *

Gambit was in the diner kitchen wearing a pair of the school's tracksuit pants and an apron. His mind was all on the cookie dough he was making.

"I love the fact that you make cookie dough from scratch," said Dr Ashton, "and you don't just use the premade stuff."

"Well, I could," Gambit replied, "and I have. But this is more fun. Plus, when you stress-cook, just cutting up premade cookie dough and sticking it in the oven isn't enough."

Dr Ashton smiled. "No, I don't imagine it would be."

He grinned at her, then turned on the mixer and watched it do its thing. He kept his eyes trained on the dough-to-be going round and round, and tried not to think about Dr Ashton approaching him with the needle. They'd already made two attempts, and both of them had to be aborted due to Gambit's nerves getting the better of him.

This time, the needle went in, its contents injected.

Gambit switched the mixer off.

"Done," said Dr Ashton softly. "It may take a couple of minutes to kick in."

"Okay," Gambit inspected the cookie dough. "I'm going to finish making this. Meet you outside?"

D Ashton nodded. "Yes. But speak up immediately if you have a problem."

"Yeah, I will."

She left. Gambit wasn't entirely alone, though. He was being watched from the control room. He pressed the button on the mixer again. After a few moments, he leaned forward on the bench as he was hit by a dizzy spell.

He grunted and blinked a few times. His breathing became ragged. The world looked strange. Dull.

_"You okay there, Remy?"_ Logan asked over the PA, his voice barely audible over the noise of the mixer.

Gambit turned the mixer off. After a moment, Logan repeated his question. Gambit continued to prop himself up on the bench as he tried to process his physical state.

"Um… I don't know."

He looked down at his pants and attempted to charge them up. A small patch about the size of a playing card lit up for a moment, then he removed it.

"Well, my powers still work, barely," Gambit said. "I think I'm having side-effects though."

Gambit lost his grip on the bench and collapsed.

* * *

Dr Ashton pulled back from inspecting Gambit's eyes.

"Alright, well, your eyes are fine," she said. "Which is to say, they're perfectly healthy from a baseline human standpoint. The variant did alter your eye colour from red and black to brown and white though, so I'd wager any alterations in how and what you see are the direct result of that."

Gambit nodded. "Alright. And the reason why I fainted?" That was embarrassing.

"Probably just a reaction. Plenty of people had them after taking the Cure. I want you to stay in the mansion for a few days, just to make sure," Dr Ashton replied. "In the majority of cases there weren't any problems after the first ten minutes, but this is an untested variant so…"

"Gotcha. And speaking of being untested, I guess you'll want to do some other tests soon?"

Dr Ashton smiled. "Just do the usual Danger Room test routine sometime today." She considered for a moment. "Actually, if you could do that every day for the next week or so. Otherwise, just let me know if you have any problems."

"Alright," he said as he stood up. He glanced towards Rogue's room. "How's Rogue?"

"She's doing as well as can be expected," Dr Ashton replied. "You can go in and see her, if you want."

"Okay sure. I… I think I will. Um, did you need me for anything else?"

"No, you're free to go."

"Great, thanks."

He took a deep breath and headed over to Rogue's room. He was terrified of what she would say to him, and found himself checking his clothes for charges. His laugh sounded strangled when he realised what he was doing. Of course his clothes hadn't been charged: his powers had been turned down. Turned way, way down.

Gambit opened up the door and stepped inside. Rogue was in her bed, fast asleep with the TV playing. The sight of her missing arm nearly brought Gambit to tears.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm so sorry, Rogue."

She didn't stir.

"Maybe I should've taken the Cure, instead of the variant. My powers will come back, but your arm won't." He sighed. "Well, it's too late now. I…" He shook his head. "I hope you don't mind."

He sighed again. He stayed in the room for a little longer, then left. Rogue didn't wake, and he wasn't about to disturb her any more than he already had.

Gambit left the medlab and made his way to the elevator. His pace slowed with every step and in the moment of realisation he forced himself to walk at a normal pace. He was not looking forward to facing everyone, but he sure wasn't going to let them know that.

The elevator doors opened, and Gambit walked out at his normal pace, with his head held high. He felt his anxiety building and automatically began mentally reviewing a recipe. He told himself that he didn't need to do that any more, and then realised he was wrong, at least a little. He would have to continue pursing emotional control if he wanted to control his powers when they came back.

He strode down the hallway to the back door. He didn't pass many people on his way, but those who did stared at him. He ignored them and focused his attention inward. He had to build a core of calm within himself and there was no time like the present.

He went out the back door and headed towards the old boathouse that he'd only moved into recently. With some reluctance he packed up his few things and then headed back to the mansion. He made up his mind: he would only stay at the mansion for a few days as Dr Ashton requested, but then he was going to go back to the old boathouse. He didn't go to all the trouble of fixing it not to live there.

Besides, the forced quiet times were helpful. Maybe, just maybe, he might finally be able to build this core of calm now that he didn't have to deal with the constant stress and anxiety wearing down his progress on the foundation. Hopefully the stress of blowing someone up wouldn't be replaced by worry that he was running out of time.

Gambit forced the unhelpful thought out of his head, and strode back towards the mansion with his bag over his shoulder. He didn't have much with him. He'd arrived at Xavier's with little more than the clothes on his back, and acquired little since his stay. He thought there was very little point in acquiring things when the odds were they'd just get blown up. He'd lost count of how many school tracksuits he'd gone through.

He made his way back up to his old room next to Rogue's and continued to ignore the stares he got along the way. He was almost at the door when Jubilee stepped out of her room.

"Oh hey…" She gaped at him. "What happened to your eyes? Oh, wait, sorry, stupid question. But wow. Hey, are you okay?" She hurried over to him.

He shrugged. "I took that variant Dr Ashton made up. She wants me to stay in the mansion for a few days. And well, I blew up Rogue's arm so… yeah… not really okay."

"Aww." Jubilee gave him a hug and with some small reluctance Gambit hugged her back. "Well, don't worry. I'm here for you. Both of you. We all are. And those are not just words, okay? I mean it."

Gambit grinned. "Thanks, Jubes."

"Always." And after a pause she added: "Hey, I just realised, I'm hugging you and I'm not getting zapped. That's so weird."

Gambit chuckled. "It is kinda weird, isn't it? Been zapping people for almost two years now."

"Wow," Jubilee said softly as she pulled back. "That's a long time."

"Yeah."

She shook her head. "And I'm not going to get used to your eyes being the wrong colour. That's really weird."

"Yeah, I'm told they changed colour. I haven't seen myself in a mirror yet," Gambit replied. He was a little afraid to. "You think it's weird. I've had red and black eyes since I was born. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna look in the mirror and see a stranger."

"Tell yourself you're wearing contacts," Jubilee suggested.

He laughed softly. "Yeah, maybe. Anyway, I should dump my stuff."

"Right." She shifted on her feet as Gambit put his hand on the door knob. "Remy? I'm sorry if… if I…" He glanced at her curiously and she swallowed. "You know, if my shipping of you two in any way contributed to this current, uh, thing."

Gambit shook his head. "What happened was between me and Rogue."

"I know but… well, I was kinda encouraging you."

"We didn't need much of that."

He walked into his old room and shut the door before another word could be said. He dropped his bag on the floor. His eyes flickered towards the wall he'd fixed all so recently. He sighed and looked at his hands.

He felt so wrong.

* * *

Gambit charged up the playing card, released it, and watched as the charge fizzled out causing a little minor scorching. He stared at the card.

He supposed he should be happy that he didn't have to worry about blowing things up. He should be pleased he didn't have to worry about charging something just by looking at it. He should be thrilled that he was no longer a danger to himself and everyone around him.

But he wasn't.

He still couldn't measure charges the way he used to: know exactly how much of a charge he was putting into an object and how much of an explosion that would be. He couldn't stand looking at himself in the mirror, unless he was wearing dark sunglasses. He didn't know the person who looked back at him. He had never known that person.

He felt out of balance, like he had been weighted too much to one side prior to taking the variant, and now he was weighted too much to the other side.

Gambit shoved the card back into the deck and stalked out of the Danger Room. There seemed to be very little point to have even done the exercise in there in the first place, bar for the fact that the Danger Room had ways of measuring power usage.

He paused in his walk outside of the medlab, and after a moment's hesitation, he headed inside. The door to Rogue's room was open and he cautiously looked around. Rogue was awake, lying in bed and watching the TV. He supposed he should say something but…

"Are you going to come in, or are you going to stare at me from the doorway all day?"

Gambit jerked and caught her eyes. She glared back at him, then her expression turned from irritation to shock.

"Remy?" she exclaimed. "Is that… I didn't even recognise you."

He smiled weakly as he walked over to her bed. "Yeah, the eyes tend to stand out."

"Logan told me but…" she shook her head. "Hearing is one thing. Seeing is something else altogether." She yawned. "You okay?"

"I think I should be asking you that," Gambit replied, and his gaze flickered over to her missing arm.

"I'm getting really tired of being laid up in hospital. I'm also tired of being tired. I can't wait to get out of here," she said.

"Yeah, I'll bet. Rogue…" he took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry. I am so sorry about your arm."

"Me too. I should've listened to you and not come looking for you—"

"How could you have listened? I just took off without a word."

"It's not like I didn't know why you were moving out. I should've taken the damn hint."

Gambit shook his head. "I should've just told you outright what I was doing instead of sneaking off behind your back. I was just… I was afraid of hurting you." His eyes fell on the heavily bandaged remains of her right arm.

"See? I should've respected your wishes and stayed away. It's not like I didn't know what why were without you telling me," Rogue replied. "I was just… I didn't want to lose you."

"I didn't want to lose you either." He looked back at her eyes. "And when I saw those Reavers go after you… I was so sure.. I was…" He shook his head and looked down.

Even now he could still feel his terror and despair at seeing the video of the fight. He hadn't seen much of it before blowing up the screen. He still hadn't seen the whole thing yet, or any of the other videos made that night. He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

"It was time to face facts," Gambit forced himself to say. "I'd reached the point where I couldn't walk away from you, and that's why I had to."

Rogue stared at him for a long moment.

"You couldn't walk away from me," she said slowly, "so you did. But if you couldn't walk away from me, and you did, then you must have been wrong about not being able to walk away from me, because if you were right then you couldn't have done what you did."

Gambit smiled ruefully. "It is a bit of a paradox, huh?"

"A paradox, a paradox, a most ingenious paradox," she sang lightly. "Hey, hey… I couldn't walk away from you either."

He reached out for her hand. "Rogue, I—"

"Don't touch me!"

He froze as Rogue jerked away from him, her left hand pressed to her chest. He swallowed hard as Rogue's eyes widened and her hand moved from her chest to her mouth. He stepped back.

"No… No. No, no, no, no, no!" Rogue exclaimed before Gambit could apologise and leave. "I cannot believe I just did that."

Gambit looked down at the floor. "I blew up your arm, Rogue. I think that's a perfectly reasonable reaction."

"It is not! Especially when you've virtually powerless right now," Rogue said fiercely. "I cannot believe I panicked. Panicked! At human touch! No! No! Absolutely not! I refuse to go back to being afraid of touching people!"

"A commendable attitude," and both turned to see Dr Ashton standing at the doorway, "but a little premature."

"Premature!"

"Yes, premature," Dr Ashton said as she walked over. "You have just gone through a traumatic experience, one you have barely even begun to process. If I were you, I'd take this as a good sign: one that means you have begun processing what's happened."

"I… I panicked though. He touched me and I panicked." Rogue's face screwed up like she was about to cry.

"As Remy said, a perfectly reasonable reaction under the circumstances," Dr Ashton replied. "But just because you respond this way once, does not mean you will every time. Now," she looked from Rogue to Gambit, then back at Rogue, "as glad as I am that you two are talking about this, I think you should wait until you're off the pain meds, or at least on a considerably lower dosage, before continuing such serious conversation."

Rogue made a noise that was half laugh, half cry. "That's probably a good idea. My head is pretty fogged up right now."

Gambit nodded. "Yeah, um, I should go. I'm, I'm glad you're…okay… And again, I'm really sorry, Rogue."

Rogue sniffed and smiled at him. "Me too."

He gave a final nod and walked out.

* * *

No one else was awake when Gambit signed out the school car. He sat in the driver's seat for a moment, then started it up, and headed out slowly.

It had been well over a year since he had last driven a car. He had found out the hard way that having an explosive mutation with an emotional trigger and driving was a bad combination. He was still amazed he had survived the loss of his motorcycle.

The first twenty minutes was spent scraping the rust off his diving skills, and then he headed into town. He had no particular location in mind, he just needed to get away for awhile. He didn't feel like himself. If it weren't for what he did to Rogue, he would be tempted to just take off.

His aimless drive took him to the outdoor shopping complex that held Jubilee's favourite party store. The complex was two-storeys, and had been raided twice by Reavers in the last six months or so. The first had been a robbery involving the gym on the top floor, one he had been there to witness. The second was only a week ago, this one targeting the accountancy firm which was also on the top floor. It was no coincidence: Rogue's ex-boyfriend Lionel had been able to confirm that the Reavers liked to target places that weren't accessible to people with disabilities. There was no elevator or suitable ramp in the complex.

Gambit drove past and on a whim found a spot a fair way away that he knew wasn't watched by street cameras. He walked back to the complex to a spot around the back. He hadn't done much stealing over the last two years—just a little pocket picking and minor pilfering when the itch hit—but he still did his automatic inventory whenever he entered a room or went somewhere new. He would make note of all the exits, security, and any objects in the area; particularly furniture and stuff worth stealing.

He climbed up the back wall to the top storey. If he recalled correctly, the dance studio should be on the other side of the wall. He doubted there would be much worth stealing inside, but there was always the games shop next door.

* * *

One night of stealing turned into several. He took one of the school's cars for the first few nights, then started taking Logan's motorcycle. He broke into all sorts of places, and stole cash and things easily converted into cash or that he otherwise found useful. One night he broke into the DMV.

Logan was in the garage when Gambit returned at 3am on his fourth night of taking the motorcycle. Logan stood there, silently, his arms folded across his chest, and watched Gambit as he parked and took off his helmet.

"I suppose you thought you were being clever," Logan said dryly, "and thought that by refilling the tank I wouldn't notice."

Gambit grinned as he put the keys back on the hook. "Don't be silly, M'sieu Claws. If I didn't want you to notice, I would've rewound the odometer."

"Uh huh." Logan gave him another long look. "Do I want to know what you've been up to?"

Gambit gave a shrug. "Specifically? Probably not."

Logan grunted. "Fine. Just don't give the cops any reason to come here. Especially don't give them any reason to come after Kitty."

Gambit was silent as he walked towards the garage door, Logan close behind. The police knew who Kitty was and what she could do, although the general public hadn't yet learnt the name of the mutant who had been caught on camera phasing through objects.

"I always make sure I can't be tracked," he said, "but I take the point."

"And you should take Rogue's bike," Logan went on. "She's not going to be riding for awhile and the engine's going to need turning over."

Gambit froze in his step. Taking Logan's bike, especially without his permission, was funny. Taking Rogue's with or without consent just made him feel plain uncomfortable. It was his fault she couldn't ride any more.

Logan stopped beside Gambit and eyed him for a moment.

"She'll ride again," Logan said. "It's possible to mod the bike so she'll be able to drive it one-handed."

"What are you saying, Logan? That if I take her bike out so I can go steal and feel like myself for a few minutes, that I'm doing Rogue a favour?" Gambit sneered.

"I'm saying that her bike still needs to be maintained."

Gambit shook his head and strode forward. "I have no business benefiting from blowing up her arm."

* * *

Gambit stared at the few belongings in his room. Dr Ashton gave him the okay to move back into the old boathouse, but he was feeling reluctant. How could he go back to the old boathouse, where he would have a great view of the place that he blew up Rogue's arm? He supposed he could stay in the mansion, but looking at the wall he so recently fixed also reminded him of Rogue and what he'd done to her.

He was supposed to be using this time to get a handle on controlling his emotions. All he was doing was wallowing in guilt and misery.

Slowly he packed up his few things. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out of the room.

He tried to shake himself out of his wallowing, but all he could think about was Rogue and what he had done to her. And what he would continue to do to her and to everyone else when the Cure variant wore off if he couldn't get his emotions under control.

Almost without realising it, Gambit ended up at Storm's office door. The door was open, and Gambit could see Storm at her desk, going through some papers. He knocked and stepped inside.

"Hi Remy," she said as she looked up at him. "Moving back out into the refurbished boathouse?"

Gambit cracked a smile. "I guess that's probably more accurate than calling it the old boathouse, huh? Actually I… I have to leave."

Storm regarded him silently for a moment. "Okay…"

"Not forever. Just a couple of weeks," he assured her. There was no way he was going to abandon Rogue after what he did to her. "I just need some time away from here to get my head back on."

Storm gave a short, sharp nod. "Perfectly understandable. You may use one of the school cars, if you'd like."

Gambit smiled slyly, thinking of his conversation with Logan in the early hours of the morning. "I think it would be smarter if I didn't do that. Besides, it's probably time I got a new motorcycle for myself."

"Ah." For a moment Storm looked like she wanted to pursue that, but instead said: "You are leaving now, then?"

"I think that would be best."

"Alright. I will take you off the rosters for the next month then," Storm said. "And remember to keep in touch. Especially if something happens concerning your mutation."

Gambit nodded. "I will. Thanks."

* * *

Gambit made it as far as the front door before he remembered something important. He didn't even hesitate to turn around and head down to the medlab. He'd already left once without saying a word to Rogue, and that had led to disaster. He wasn't about to compound the mistake by doing it again.

Rogue was fast asleep when he got there. She looked so peaceful, he was reluctant to disturb her. Even with painkillers, he was sure that the burned remains of her arm hurt.

After standing there watching her for several minutes, Gambit headed to Dr Ashton's office. She wasn't in. He supposed she was on a rather late lunch break or something. He grabbed a pen and sheet of paper.

_Rogue,_  
_Taking off for a few weeks. I promise I'll be back._  
_Remy_

He felt like he should write more but he couldn't think what to say. He left the paper on Rogue's bedside table. He took another long look at Rogue, but she didn't stir, and at long last he turned his back and left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

A week later found Gambit in a dive bar in Kentucky. His new motorcycle was parked outside along several others. He was in a better mood after a week of stealing and riding, but he couldn't lose the feeling of being out of balance. He never look at his reflection if he could avoid it either.

He sat at the bar with his drink and looked around the room. There was already a fair crowd, and it was slowly getting bigger, although Gambit figured it would taper off soon. He eyed off a few prospective marks to pickpocket later.

Gambit took another sip of his drink as the door opened. His eyes locked with those of the man who just came in.

"Rubix?" Gambit exclaimed, but softly, and certainly not enough for his old friend to hear. Without thinking, Gambit slid off his barstool, drink in hand, and headed over to the man who was now frowning in his direction.

"Hey, Rubix," Gambit said as he got closer. "Long time, no see."

"Sorry," Rubix said as he studied Gambit's face, "I know you look familiar…"

"Oh, it's me, Remy. Gambit." He shrugged. "It's okay. I don't really look like myself these days."

Rubix's frown deepened. "What happened to your eyes?"

"I took the Cure," Gambit replied, unable to hide the bitterness from his voice.

Rubix nodded slowly, then gestured to one of the few tables left. "I'll grab a drink and then we can talk."

"Sure."

Gambit sat down and set his glass on the table. Rubix rejoined him shortly with a drink of his own.

"You know, I seem to recall hearing about your wedding a couple of years back," Rubix said after he'd sat for a moment. "Something about you killing Julien in a duel with your powers and then claiming you'd lost control. Of course, everyone knew you'd always had good control of your powers, so it was obviously a flimsy lie you'd come up with."

Gambit snorted.

"I can't really blame people for not believing you," Rubix went on. "I mean, of all the times for you to lose control, it just so happens to be when you're in a duel with Julien? Seems a bit of a coincidence."

"Coincidence had nothing to do with it. Turns out that stress can lead to lack of power control," Gambit replied shortly. "It was my wedding day and someone tried to kill me. I think I had a lot of reasons to be stressed."

"Huh. Interesting. Didn't know that." Rubix smiled as Gambit took a good long swig of his drink. "I can see I have a lot to share with some old friends of mine." Rubix's smile broadened into a grin. "So, how's exile treating you? Still stealing?"

"What else is there?"

"What indeed."

"And you?" Gambit frowned. "You know, I was never exactly clear on when you left the Guild. Sometime after you had that car accident?"

"I don't think there was ever really a formal departure," Rubix said musingly. "I lost my foot in that car accident, and had a lot of physical therapy and stuff to deal with."

Gambit shivered slightly, automatically thinking of Rogue.

"And if that wasn't hard enough," Rubix went on, "I had a bunch of Guild people trying to tell me what I could and couldn't do as a thief with my new foot, when I got it. There's nothing more annoying than people trying to lecture you about things they know nothing about."

Gambit lifted his glass. "I'll drink to that."

Rubix chuckled and they both drank.

"Anyway, eventually I just got sick of it and took off." He shrugged. "I guess I'm still technically a member, but I'm in no rush to go back to people who want to micromanage my business."

The two continued to chat over their drinks, mostly just chatting about old times in the Guild. Rubix was still as big of a nerd as Gambit remembered: the older man had taught Gambit card tricks and his nickname reflected his enthusiasm for solving Rubik's cubes.

Another man stepped to their table. He glanced at Gambit, and then looked right at Rubix. "We're starting now."

"Ah, right," Rubix replied, then glanced at Gambit. "Still play poker?"

"Yeah. Not as much as I used to, but yeah," Gambit replied.

"Care to join us?"

"Love to."

"Rubix?" The man asked.

"He's cool," Rubix assured him with a nod as he stood. "I'll just get a new drink."

"Uh huh." The man glanced warily at Gambit and headed off.

"The poker game is sacred, huh?" Gambit asked as he and Rubix made their way to the bar.

Rubix grinned at him. "Something like."

After getting their drinks, Gambit followed Rubix into the back room. Three others were already inside, seated around a table, and their conversation silenced as Rubix and Gambit walked in. They looked hard at Gambit.

"Who's this?" asked the one woman in the room.

"Gambit," Rubix replied as he pulled up another chair. "He's ex-Guild too. Gambit, this is Shatter—"

The woman continued to eye Gambit with suspicion.

"—Sarge—"

The man who had met them at the table sat down beside Shatter.

"—and Pincer."

Pincer didn't bother looking at Gambit as he pulled out a fresh deck of cards with his only hand and began to shuffle the new deck.

"Nice to meet y'all," Gambit replied as he sat down between Rubix and Pincer.

If he didn't know Rubix so well, he wouldn't have thought anything of Pincer only having one arm. But he did know Rubix, and between that and the nicknames, Gambit strongly suspected he'd just walked into a Reavers nest.

"Uh huh," Shatter said and slowly dragged her eyes away from Gambit to Rubix. "You're vouching for him, huh?"

"Yep. We can talk freely."

"Maybe not too freely," Gambit said carefully. "I might have taken the Cure but I still have several mutant friends. I wouldn't want to compromise you."

Silence fell. Pincer paused in his shuffling for a moment. Although the X-Men had gotten the more publicised fights with the Reavers in, there were several other mutants who had been getting into fights with various levels of success. There had been a lot of talk about vigilantism, but thus far only a minority of the mutants involved had actually gone looking for trouble.

"You're a mutie?" Sarge demanded.

"Ex-mutant," Rubix said before Gambit could respond. "And it wouldn't matter to me if he were still a mutant. I've known Gambit here since he was a kid. He's a thief first, and a damn good one at that." Rubix threw Gambit a side-long glance. "You'll abide by Guild etiquette while we're playing, right?"

"Guild etiquette?" Shatter asked.

Gambit grinned at Rubix. "Of course. It's not nearly as much fun if you cheat."

Shatter narrowed her eyes at him. Before she could comment further, however, Rubix cut in to advise Gambit of the buy in and which version of poker they played. Money was put in, chips were handed out, and when Pincer finished shuffling the cards to his satisfaction he dealt them out.

Gambit put on his poker face as he lifted up the corners of his two face-down cards to review them. He didn't doubt that Rubix's friends would eye him like hawks in the game ahead, and not just so they could learn his tells. He was definitely going to have to be on his guard to make sure nothing showed through.

The thought occurred to him that practising his poker face may also work as an emotional control exercise. He'd had a conversation about that once before with Storm when he was looking for a training hobby. Poker had been ruled out because it was a social activity, but that didn't mean it couldn't still be good training.

Rubix and his friends didn't talk much as the game progressed. Then, several rounds later, Rubix addressed Gambit:

"You've gotten better," he said as he pushed his cards away, signalling that he was folding.

"Yeah? So have you," Gambit replied, determinedly keeping his face bland as he called the bet. "You don't do that thing where you rub your chin every time you bluff any more."

Pincer turned his cards over as well.

"No, no I don't. And you don't do that annoying cocky grin of yours every time you have good cards either," Rubix said, his eyes glinting with mischief, as Shatter dealt the final community card. "Your mouth doesn't even do that quirky thing where you were trying to stop yourself from smirking any more."

Sarge moved a couple of chips towards the centre.

"Had to break the habit sooner or later," Gambit replied, as he put a larger number of chips in front of him.

"Did you? Did you really?" Rubix grinned mischievously at him while Shatter folded. "You were so much more to play with when your poker face was non-existent."

"Lies," Gambit said as Sarge raised his bet. "I was merely amusing back then. Now I'm fun." He called Sarge's bet.

"Such an adorable little kid," Rubix went on teasingly. "You always got so excited when you figured out a tell. Usually one we let you see."

Sarge turned over his cards so that everyone could see his pair of fives, to go with the one five and the pair of tens in the community cards.

"I was never adorable," Gambit said, and turned over his cards to reveal the other two tens. "I have only ever been devilishly handsome."

"Devilish is right," Rubix said, and shook his head as Gambit collected his winnings.

The cards were collected and the deck was passed onto Sarge. Once he was satisfied the cards were sufficiently shuffled, he dealt. Gambit's two cards were a 3 and a 9, so he opted to fold first chance he got. Rubix soon folded as well.

As the game continued with the other three Reavers, Gambit felt Rubix slip something into his pocket. If he hadn't been such a skilled pickpocket he never would've noticed it. He glanced over at Rubix. Rubix appeared to be more interested in counting his chips than in Gambit. Gambit reached for his glass and drank a sip. Whatever his old friend had put in his pocket, it was clear he didn't want his Reaver buddies knowing about it.

* * *

Shortly after lunch the next day (or breakfast, as he preferred to call it), Gambit opened the door of his hotel room to let Rubix in. The older man slipped inside quickly.

"Thanks for meeting with me," Rubix said as he headed over to the table with a folder tucked under his arm.

"No problem," Gambit replied with a shrug, then grinned at him. "You sure you weren't followed?"

Rubix threw Gambit a cynical look. "Yeah, I'm sure. Besides, those guys couldn't tail a lighthouse."

Gambit snickered. Rubix grinned, and then pulled out his phone.

"One thing before we get started," Rubix said. "Is this you?"

He held out his phone. On the screen was a still frame of one of the many videos taken of the dragon incident in San Fransisco over a month ago. In the still, he was standing on the ground with his clothes charged up. Rogue was sitting on the ground next to him. Vange was inspecting Gambit with her large, dragon head.

"Yeah, that's me," Gambit replied slowly.

"So, taking the Cure was a recent occurrence, then?"

Gambit shrugged. "I did meet Rogue while we were both in the line for the Cure. She told me about the school. I figured it was worth finding out if they could help me. And I was making progress but…" he hesitated. "Let's just say that something happened that forced my hand and leave it at that." He nodded towards the phone. "That going to hinder my possible hiring for this job you want me to do?"

Rubix put his phone away. "The job I want you for has nothing to do with mutants, and I wouldn't consider hiring you for anything that did. But it does mean that as far as the rest of the Reavers are concerned, last night was a once off and they are never going to know I'm hiring you for anything. If they even so much as suspect that you're involved with Xaviers, well…"

Gambit nodded knowingly. "So, what exactly is the job, then?"

Rubix sat down at the table and opened up the folder, Gambit sat down with him.

"Our equipment is pretty expensive," Rubix said as he pulled out specific pieces of paper. "So when any of us are arrested or killed or whatever, we like to get as much of our stuff back as we can. Preferably all of it. Most of the time it's just left in evidence lockers. But there's this one lab where they're researching our tech."

Gambit looked at some photos of SI Labs. It was a fairly glossy-looking building on the outside. Other photos were of the interior and clearly taken by stealth. There were a couple of pictures of security points and guards, and the guards were armed with a regular gun, and another type of gun Gambit hadn't seen before.

"Now, normally we'd just do a raid and be done with it. I can't just sneak in and do it all on my own 'cause there's too much equipment and too far to travel," Rubix went on. "The problem is that they're expecting us to raid them, so most of their security is designed around making sure we can't. And making sure that no one they even suspect could possibly be a Reaver can get in."

Rubix tapped a picture of a metal detecting scanner.

"You go no chance of getting in legitimately If you're in a wheelchair or missing a body part. Well, I suppose if someone was sufficiently important enough, they could get in, but they'd probably be under heavy guard the whole time," Rubix said.

Gambit glanced up at him. "You can get in." It was a simple statement of fact.

"Yeah, I can. What I can't get pass is the main security feature: the EMP room."

Gambit raised his eyebrows. "EMP room?"

Rubix nodded. "It's a long corridor leading to the specific lab and lab storage where they're keeping our equipment. They send an EMP through it at frequent but irregular intervals, except when staff or other pre-screened people are going through it. The EMP is powerful enough to disable my foot even when it's turned off."

"And I'm guessing you have to use your Reaver foot?" Gambit asked. "You can't just use a basic one?"

Rubix sighed. "I have been operating under the expectation that I'll have to use a basic one, but quite frankly, I don't want to. The basic Reaver prosthetic is miles ahead of any of the dead limbs we'd otherwise have to use. Have you ever tried climbing a ladder with a numb foot?"

Gambit started to shake his head, then stopped and looked thoughtful. Several incidents as a child before he was adopted by Jean-Luc crossed his mind, most of them vague. "I may have. I remember being numb from cold a lot as a kid. Too long ago."

Rubix gave him a long piercing look, which softened after a moment. "Right, forgot you weren't always a LeBeau. Well, not being able to feel where and how you're stepping, especially when you can't see, is a pain in the ass. And if you're not careful, you will have a literal pain the ass. A basic Reaver prosthetic is designed to provide feedback. It can't provide the full spectrum of sensation that my real foot gets, but it provides enough that I actually know where I'm stepping, what I'm stepping on, and in the case of going up and down a ladder, some depth perception."

Gambit nodded slowly, his mind not far away from Rogue. "In other words, things that people like me take for granted and can't possibly comprehend."

"I avoid using my original prosthetic as much as possible. In fact, I can't even remember the last time I used it," Rubix said, and gestured to the papers. "If I have to use it to do this, I'm going to be at a serious disadvantage. On the other hand, you could probably walk in the front door and even go through security the conventional way without anyone raising an eyebrow."

"And what do you want me to do when I get in? Disable this EMP corridor?"

"That, and, if at all possible, disable their EMP guns."

Gambit frowned, then pointed at the odd gun in one of the pictures of the security guards. "That's what that thing is?"

Rubix nodded. "They're not as powerful as the one in the corridor, so they won't affect our prosthetics if they're off. But since we'll have them turned on while the raid is happening, that's a bit of a moot point."

"The EMPs will still effect their regular electronic equipment though, won't they?"

"Yeah. The entire facility is basically a network of Faraday cages. Security is probably set up so that rooms will seal in emergency, but even not completely sealed, it's enough to prevent phones from getting any signal. There's no internal wifi either. Everything is wired. There are security phones in all the hallways behind metal mesh, because radios aren't going to work either."

"Security cameras?"

"There are some, but they aren't shielded, not that I can tell. There might be some shielding that happens in the event of an emergency, but…" Rubix shrugged. "Now, I realise that we probably can't take out all the EMP guns, but if you are able to disable or block access to the ones in the armoury, wherever that is, that would help." Rubix grinned at Gambit. "There's a bonus for you in it if we can do the raid without anyone getting hit by an EMP."

Gambit grinned back at him. "Oooh a challenge. You know how much I love a good challenge. How much is this gig worth to you anyway?"

Rubix told him.

"You guys really want your equipment back, don't you?" Gambit said, and leaned over the table to look at the intel Rubix had gathered. "Alright, what do we have here?"

* * *

In preparation, Gambit created a fake ID for himself, one to match the SI Labs ID cards. Rubix had acquired one earlier that saved Gambit the effort of doing it himself. He also grew out his beard so that he'd look older while he was inside, and trimmed and dyed his hair black, so that no one—especially not any Reavers he might come across later—would recognised him. Rubix had included floor plans. He hadn't seen the entire facility, but Gambit memorised what he did have.

Gambit acquired a security guard uniform, or clothing close enough to what they wore that no one should notice any minor differences. His costume included a belt with gun holster, and a holster for the EMP gun. He put a regular old toy gun in the gun holster. He had no intention of using the real thing. The uniform also included special gloves. Rubix had acquired a pair on a previous trip, and, upon inspection, concluded from the rubber fingertips that they were for safety's sake.

On the big night, he prepaid for a large pizza delivery, and slipped in while admin and security were trying to figure it out. He lifted an EMP gun from one of the distracted guards on his way pass. It was heavier than he expected and he hoped the guard wouldn't immediately notice its absence.

He made a side trip into the now-empty security office and lifted up the EMP gun to take a closer look. It seemed straightforward. He pointed it at the main computer and fired it. The computer immediately turned off and all the screens went dark.

Gambit smiled as he left the office. He paused briefly at the doorway to fire the EMP gun at the security camera, then headed down the main hallway. He stopped again when he came across the first hall phone. It was in the wall, tucked behind a metal grate. The grate was only closed, not locked, so Gambit opened it up and fired the EMP gun at it. He had no idea if the shot would take out the phone system or only the phone, but either way, this was one phone they couldn't use.

Gambit got seven more shots at cameras and phones out of the EMP gun before it refused to fire any more. A message appeared on a little LCD screen: battery low. It was only then that he noticed the gauge.

He wondered if EMP guns would work on other EMP guns.

It wasn't too much longer before he spied a metal cage wall ahead. There was a camera nearby, as well as another hall phone. There was a locked door in the wall, and through the fine bars Gambit could see a solid pair of doors. If he had any doubt that this was the entrance to the EMP corridor, there was a big sign near the hall phone that announced no one was to enter without authorisation and if you tried to go in without said authorisation, you could say goodbye to your electronic devices. In smaller writing it said to call to enter.

Gambit's eyes flickered up to the camera. He wished he wasn't out of charge on the EMP gun, but perhaps it was for the best. He opened up the grate in front of the hall phone, and lifted the receiver. There was no dial tone. After a moment's hesitation, Gambit pressed a couple of buttons, but there was no response. He hung up the receiver and, with his back to the camera, got to work on the lock with his picks. The lock was simple enough, and he soon had the wide cage door open. He closed it behind him.

He pushed open one of the solid double doors that lead into the EMP corridor proper. It was heavy, and it closed itself shut behind him as he stepped inside. The corridor was dark and bare. The only light came in through metal mesh grates. Gambit wasted no time: he just ran.

The EMP fired when he was about a third of the way through. He felt a very quick jolt and continued on, his heart racing.

At first, the end of the corridor appeared to be a dead end. He could see where the EMP was fired, but he didn't see an exit until he got to the very end and saw that the corridor made a left turn. The door to exit was just as heavy as the one he entered by. It shut itself as Gambit entered the next room, which was a small one just like the one at the beginning of the corridor.

Past the metal cage wall was a large security room. The centrepiece was a wide security desk for two, with several monitors on one side. There was another desk behind it, against the wall, with a printer sitting on it. There were doors to the left and right, and on one side of the door on the right was a large metal cage full of EMP guns.

Two security guards were at the main desk. Gambit caught the solid door before it could close itself, and slowed the procedure in the hopes that the guards wouldn't notice him immediately. Fortunately, one was busy glaring at the monitors, with the phone pressed against his ear, and cursing, while the other was irritably informing his partner that if the lines were down, then they were down, and no amount of swearing was going to fix the problem.

Gambit held onto his smile as he stepped up to the lock on the wide cage door. He pulled out his picks and started working on the lock as the first guard slammed down the receiver and snarled something unintelligible at his partner. The second guard threw his hands up into the air and declared he was going to go inform the lab of their status and to check on theirs.

The second guard turned to the door on the left and walked out. He ignored his partner's exasperated rebuttal.

Gambit felt the door unlock, but didn't push it open until after the second guard had disappeared from view. He tried to open it quietly, but it made just enough noise in a moment of silence to catch the remaining guard's attention.

"Hey, who are you? How'd you get in here?" the guard demanded as he half stood up from his chair.

"Uh, I have a key," Gambit replied blithely as he walked into the office proper, "and I'm the guy they sent to check if you guys were having problems too."

"Oh, well, we are." The guard scowled. "Several cameras are down and so's the phone line. Carl's just gone to check on the lab."

"Alright. We should assume the Reavers are making a move," Gambit said with the voice of authority. "Hopefully it'll just be a glitch, but better prepared for the worst." He began walking over to the EMP gun cage. In the corner of his eye, he could see another door on the same wall as the EMP corridor entrance.

The guard swore under his breath and muttered something about how this would have to happen on his shift. "Yeah, okay, more batteries."

Gambit watched as the guard headed over to the room next to the gun cage and opened it up. He was immediately hit by a lot of noise and walked inside to see what appeared to be a battery charging room. Not all the batteries in there were plugged in. There were stacks of the cylinder batteries on a wall to the side.

"Alright," Gambit said as he lifted the guard's keys from the belt loop, "I'm going to take as many of these down to the front as I can. You should grab as many as you can carry, for you and Carl."

"Right, good plan."

"Is there a box I can take these down in?" Gambit then swiped the distracted guard's EMP gun.

"Uh…"

As the guard looked around, Gambit slipped back towards the door.

"Ah, over here." The guard picked up a small red crate, then looked up to see Gambit in the doorway with the EMP gun pointed at the generator. "What are you…?"

Gambit shot the EMP gun at the generator. The generator fizzled as the guard swore and Gambit shut the door. It was a good, solid, heavy door, and did a pretty good job at sound proofing. Like the EMP corridor doors, this door also preferred to be shut, which was good because it made it easier for Gambit to find the right key on the keyring to lock it while the guard kept trying to force the door back open.

Hopefully no one would find him until after the Reavers had left. And with the generator off he wouldn't even lose his hearing during the wait.

That taken care of, Gambit turned his attention to the EMP gun cage. He found the right key on the keyring (even though it would've been faster for him to pick the lock), and picked up one of the guns. It was much lighter than the two he was carrying. After a moment's investigation, he located where the battery went. There wasn't one inside, which told Gambit that a good half of the weight of the EMP gun was in the battery.

He put the gun back and locked up the cage. Without batteries, the guns were useless, and he suspected that they'd survive getting shot with another EMP gun while they had no power. The stronger EMP in the corridor might be a different story, but there was no way for him to get all the guns in there, not quickly anyway.

Gambit turned his attention to the door next to the EMP corridor. He found the key for that and let himself in. Like the battery room, this one was also noisy courtesy of a generator in one corner, and the sound had been muffled by sound proofing. The main feature of the small room was a device that Gambit could only describe as an EMP cannon.

He stood as far back from both as he could, then fired his EMP gun at the cannon, then at the generator, as quickly as he could. He stepped back from the door and helped it shut. After several moments he cautiously open the door again. It was silent.

"Hey, who the hell are you?"

The door silently shut itself as Gambit turned around slowly. Carl had returned and he had his regular gun pointed at Gambit.

"Where the hell have you been!" Gambit demanded. "We've got cameras down. Phones down. I come in here to check on the status quo and what do I find? Nothing! The generators are down and the two guards who are supposed to be in here protecting them are nowhere to be found. Care to explain yourself?"

Carl gave Gambit a long look. "Why do you have two EMP guns?"

"We have a potential Reaver infiltrator on the loose and you're asking why I have two guns? Why the hell do you think I have two guns?"

"I haven't seen you before."

"I haven't seen you before either. What is this? Twenty questions? We don't have time for games!" Gambit smacked his fist onto his palm. "One Reaver infiltrator is not going to be able to reclaim their equipment alone. That means there's a whole marauding gang of them on their way. They might even be busting in at this moment. We need to get more batteries to the front and we need to get this thing," Gambit pointed with his thumb back at the EMP cannon room, "working again."

"Yeah, we do."

Carl continued to stand there with his gun pointed at Gambit.

After a silence drawn out far too long for Gambit's sake, he sad with exasperation: "What? Don't just stand there! We have work to do."

"Like I said, I haven't seen you before."

Gambit narrowed his eyes at Carl. "And like I said, I haven't seen you before either. For all I know, you could be the Reaver infiltrator."

"More likely you are."

"So you say." Gambit replied. "What? You wanna take off our gloves and boots and prove to each other that we're not missing any body parts?"

Carl was silent for a moment, then said: "Yep. You first."

"Well, you're the one with the gun."

As Gambit took off his first glove (relieved that Rubix had managed to pick up the work-issued clothing earlier) he used the opportunity to move in closer to Carl. Not as close as he would've liked to have gotten, but close enough to allow Carl a good view of his real limbs. He took off one glove then the other, and put them back on. Then he pulled out a chair and used that as an assist to take off his shoes and socks and give Carl a good look at his feet.

"Alright," Carl said as Gambit put his shoes and socks back on. "You're not a Reaver. We should—"

"Not until you prove to me that you're not one either," Gambit said, and pointed to a spot on the main desk. "Put your gun there. You don't need it right now."

Carl grunted, but did put the gun down. As Carl went through the motions of demonstrating that he still had all his original limbs, Gambit contemplated his next course of action. He thought about switching Carl's real gun for Gambit's toy while he had the chance, but he didn't doubt that Carl would notice immediately. Beyond that he had to find a way to shut Carl into either the battery room or the EMP gun cage. He preferred to keep Carl out of the EMP cannon room: the last thing he wanted was for there to be a chance Carl could resurrect the machine.

"Satisfied?" Carl asked as he showed off his second foot.

"Yep," Gambit replied. He stood and headed over to the EMP cage while Carl put his shoes and socks back on. "I'll just grabbed a couple more of these for out front."

"Why didn't you grab more the first time?"

"Because I thought I was going to have to hold down the fort here, that's why." Gambit replied and opened up the cage. He was relieved he'd found the key earlier: saved him having to pick the lock in front of Carl. "You want an extra?"

"Yeah… thanks…"

Gambit knew from Rubix's research that there were four guards out the front, so he grabbed three, plus a fourth one for Carl. As he set them down on the desk, Carl got up and headed for the battery room.

Gambit walked back to the cage as if to lock it.

Carl began to open up the battery room door.

Gambit stepped back from the cage. He ran the short distance and kicked Carl hard in the back. As Carl lurched forward into the battery room, Gambit grabbed Carl's keys out of his hand, and then flung himself at the door to help it shut faster. He locked it, relieved that he'd found the key earlier. He doubted he would've been able to keep the door shut with two guards fighting him, even if the door was on his side.

He took a few moments to catch his breath. Then he wondered if the guards would have enough air. He shook his head. A room like that would have to have decent ventilation or it would get too hot. The guards would be fine. It was just a shame that air shafts were not as big as they were on TV. This job would've been so much easier if they were.

His next step was making sure that no one would be getting into the battery room. He had two keys to the lock now, but that didn't mean there weren't more, and he didn't want anyone showing up to get more batteries who'd be able to unlock the door and release the two guards. With a sigh he pulled out the toothpicks he'd brought with him. He slid one into the lock as far as it would go, then broke it off. He put more bits of toothpicks into the lock until he could fit no more.

He glanced over at the EMP cannon room. He made sure it was locked, and then gave it the toothpick treatment too.

This done, Gambit used the EMP gun on the security computer, then headed towards the lab. There was only one hall camera to deal with before getting to the lab entrance. He cautiously opened up the light door and peeked inside. He saw no one, but he did spy another security camera, which he shot.

He carefully stepped into the room and looked around. There was lab equipment and computers everywhere, and several doors, some heavy duty, some not. After a moment's hesitation, Gambit headed back to the security office. His job was to deal with the EMP cannon, and that was done. He needed to get out of here and report back to Rubix. The sooner he could tell the Reavers they could get in, the better. It was a little frustrating he couldn't communicate from the inside, especially as leaving was going to be harder than getting in.

Gambit walked back through the EMP corridor. As he stepped back out into the main hallway a voice greeted him.

"Oh, hey I was just coming to see you," said a security guard, one without an EMP gun. "We've got cameras and phones down—"

"Yeah, so do we," Gambit replied as he turned to walk down the hallway.

"Damn, we need to let engineering know." The guard started to walk towards the EMP corridor.

"Already did," Gambit said as grabbed the guard by a shoulder to prevent his moving forward. In the same moment he put the dead EMP gun back into its holster. "I'm here to give you guys a hand out front in case those Reavers show up."

The guard nodded. "Okay. Good."

The two walked swiftly down the hall. All the while, Gambit's mind raced for a way to take out the remaining 3 EMP guns. Or at least, the only 3 active ones he was aware of: who knew how many guards were actually on the base. And if he shot one with the EMP gun, especially now that the guards knew there was a problem, they would definitely notice. If he was counting right, he had four charges left on his.

As they approached the foyer, Gambit was surprised to find no one there. The guard with him wasn't, and Gambit followed him out (pass a counter with several pizza boxes, some of them open) through the front doors.

One of the guards was using his mobile phone, while the other two stood watch, EMP guns at the ready. Gambit smiled to himself: it made sense, the only way to get a signal out of the facility was to leave it. Unfortunately for the guards, Gambit could get a signal out too.

He stayed back from the guards and took out a pink glow stick from one of his pockets. He shook it up, then waved it above his head with one hand while the other picked up his EMP gun.

There was silence, but for the guard on the phone.

Gunfire rippled in front of them.

Gambit dropped the glowstick and fired the EMP gun at the three guards still with working ones, starting with the guard with the phone.

"Run!" he yelled at them, and bolted to the side.

He held tight to the glow stick as he ran. He hoped the guards would run too. He didn't want to think about what would happen to them if they didn't.

* * *

"Hey Remy," Rubix said over the phone. "Did you check your account this morning?"

Gambit yawned on his hotel bed. "Sure, if by 'this morning' you mean 'five minutes ago'."

Rubix chuckled knowingly.

"It was a success, I take it?" Gambit asked. "Get everything?"

"Sure did. And, I still need to confirm, but I'm pretty sure that no one got hit by an EMP so I should be getting that bonus to you soon," Rubix said cheerfully. "Nicely done."

"Thanks." He hesitated, then said: "Look, I… I'm not stupid. I knew getting involved with this might mean doing stuff I'm not comfortable with. But I… I've already got one death on my conscience and I really don't need any more. So, um, yeah, please don't tell me what happened to those four guards out front—"

"They're alive."

"What?"

"They're alive, or they were the last time I saw them. Badly injured some of them, but alive. I told the guys not to kill anyone just in case it was my inside man," Rubix said. "Believe me, I know how you feel. I grew up in the Thieves Guild too, and even to this day I still believe that if someone dies while you're on the job, whether it's you or them, the job's a failure."

"I guess that makes it difficult working for the Reavers," Gambit replied, feeling greatly relieved.

"Yes and no. Most of the Reavers don't actually want to kill anyone either. In fact the average Reaver wasn't even the criminal type previously."

"So, why do they join?"

"Desperation, frustration, money," Rubix replied as if making a list of suggestions. "There's probably some self-esteem issues in there somewhere. Speaking for the amputees, we deal with body issues something fierce. It's not easy looking into a mirror and seeing a part of you is just gone."

Gambit lifted his free hand to his eyes.

"I can only really guess," Rubix went on. "I mean, I joined because I was looking to get a custom prosthesis, something that I could use on jobs and smuggle things with. And let me tell you, my foot is freaking badass. Although, sadly, I only have enough room to smuggle something small, like a key or a flash drive."

"I can see how being able to smuggle out a flash drive would be useful."

"And it is. But you know…"

"You just want to be able to smuggle out something bigger."

"You have no idea how many times I've had the opportunity to swipe a little extra loot and had nowhere to put it," Rubix replied, and Gambit could hear his grin. "But on the bright side, my pro thief status means I don't need to go out on the bread and butter jobs, and the most I do for the jobs with the more mercenary types is recon. Which is good, because as I said, I don't care for jobs where people get killed."

"Yeah," Gambit replied. "Hey, where does the disabled activism come into it?" He liked Rubix, but activism had never been on his to-do list.

Rubix snorted. "I couldn't say for sure. The boss doesn't care about that stuff. He has specific targets he wants us to go after, and he doesn't care who else gets hit. If I were to guess, I'd say that those average Reavers I mentioned are struggling with their consciences and needed a way to prove they weren't the bad guys."

"And now it's a common practice."

"Seems so! I don't think anything will come of it, except maybe to get abled people more of an excuse to hate disabled people. But hey, maybe I'll be surprised," Rubix replied. "Anyway, I should go."

"Me too… Oh, hey, question. I have a…a friend who lost an arm recently. I don't suppose you have any advice I could give her?"

"Nope. But I do have advice for you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Don't give her any advice."

Gambit chuckled nervously.

"I'm serious, Remy. Let your _friend_ get advice from sources of her own choosing. Unsolicited advice is exactly why I'm not working for the Guild any more," Rubix said firmly. "Also, don't help her unless she asks for it. Let her know she can count on you if she needs it, sure, but do not try to help her without her express permission. She's not going to be able to learn what she can do and how to do it if you or anyone else babies her. And she's not going to be happy about being babied once she does know what she's capable of."

Gambit snorted. "It's almost like you know her."

"Well, yeah, it's what we all go through… Oh you mean she's the kind to give you chapter and verse if you deny her independence?"

"Pretty much."

"I like her already. Mutant, I take it?"

Gambit hesitated. "Yeah."

"Pity. I'd ask you to pass on a recruitment card if she wasn't."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Gambit plugged in the code to let him back into Xaviers and drove down the driveway the moment the gates were open wide enough. He drove over to the garage and let himself in. He parked by Logan and Rogue's motorcycles, then grabbed his bags and headed down to the old boathouse. He took the long route via the greenhouse and was pleased to see that Storm was there.

"Hey Stormy," Gambit said as he walked through the greenhouse door, his bags slung over his shoulder.

"Remy, hello," Storm said as she looked up at him from spraying her plants. "Welcome back. How was your trip?"

"Good, informative. Exactly what I needed," he replied with a nod. "Spent a lot of time in casinos playing poker actually. I'm probably going to continue going out to casinos regularly. Practicing my poker face turned out to be really helpful."

Storm nodded slowly. "That does work for some people." She studied him thoughtfully. "But gambling can be a dangerous pastime. Going to the casino could turn out to be very costly."

"Only if I gamble more than I'm willing to lose," Gambit said. "Don't worry, I'm not going to get myself into any gambling debts." He grinned wickedly at her. "I'm not going to try to rip off the casino either. I could, but I won't."

She gave him a long look. "Somehow I am not reassured."

"I solemnly promise I will gamble responsibly," Gambit replied, still grinning. "But in all seriousness, it's been really helpful so far. I have definitely made progress."

"All right," Storm said. "I will take your word for it for now. You just got back now, I take it?"

"Yeah. I figure I'll stay in the old boathouse unless Rogue decides she really wants me to move back into the room next to hers," he hesitated, then said: "How is she doing?"

"She is up and about. She is not here right now, though. She has gone out to dinner with Forge."

Gambit blinked. "Forge?"

Storm nodded. "Yes. Rogue will be attending an amputees support group, but I thought it might be useful for her to spend some time with a mutant amputee. Forge agreed."

"Ah, okay, well, that's good. Hopefully I'll catch her when she gets back." Gambit hefted the bag. "Anyway, I should go unpack."

"Yes. It is good to have you back, Remy."

"Thanks."

* * *

A couple of hours later, Gambit walked into the usual rec room. The usual gang was already there and Gambit got halfway to the lounges before Jubilee spotted him.

"Remy! You're back!" she exclaimed as she bounded over to him.

"Yeah, I am," Gambit said as he hugged her.

"Yay." Jubilee pulled back from the hug and eyed him critically. "You've done something to your hair. It's shorter. And…" she scrutinised it carefully, "have you dyed it? The colour seems different."

The temporary black dye he'd used hadn't entirely washed out yet. His beard, however, was gone, and he was back to his usual light stubble.

"I had a goth phase while I was away," Gambit joked.

"And I didn't get to see it? How dare you!"

"Next time I have a goth phase, you can be there. You can even join me, if you want."

"Good!" Jubilee grinned at him and tugged him toward the rest of the group. "Look guys! Remy's back!"

"We'd noticed," Bobby said slyly from his seat. "So, where'd you go? Whatcha do?"

Gambit barely heard his questions. His eyes landed on Rogue, who was glaring up at him from her seat. Her left hand was resting on her knee, her fingers digging into her skin. Her right arm was notable by it's glaring absence.

Guilt immediately welled up within him, but he pushed it aside. He wouldn't, couldn't allow his guilt to make decisions for him.

"You left a note," Rogue said tersely.

He took a deep breath before replying: "I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice."

"So you make another one instead?" She demanded as she rose to her feet. "You blew up my arm and you just take off?"

Her eyes flashed angrily at him. He felt attracted and worried and frustrated, but forced himself to ignore all of those. He felt his poker face slip into place.

"Yes. Because the best thing I could do to help you while you were in the medlab spending most of your time sleeping, was to make sure that I could control my powers when this Cure variant wears off," he replied firmly, "so that nothing like this happens again."

She pursed her lips. "A note."

"Did you really want me to wake you while you were in a drug induced sleep?"

"Screw you."

And before Gambit had a chance to reply, Rogue whipped her left arm around him, pushed her hand against the back of his head and pressed her lips against his. Gambit kissed her back eagerly. He had no idea how Rogue had gone from being angry with him to kissing him passionately, but he wasn't going to object. He was pleased she didn't object to their touching, like she had a month ago.

The kiss went on so long that the others started saying "so what's on the TV?" and "how'd you go on that assignment?"and "okay, seriously guys, get a damn room already." Gambit ignored them and let Rogue decide when they were done.

Finally, Rogue pulled back and gazed up into his eyes.

"You said you were falling for me," she said.

He gazed down that the glorious woman before him. The one who's strength, determination, and passion ignited a fire within him like no one else ever had. He was beyond merely 'falling for her' and the thought scared him.

This was not the time to be scared.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words failed him. He licked his lips and tried to force it, so overcome the fear that had silenced him…

But perhaps this wasn't the time for total honesty either.

"I have fallen for you," he said, finally. "There's nothing I want more than to be with you."

"Good 'cause that's what I want too," she replied, her eyes flashing once more. "This relationship cost me my arm, Remy. You get that? It cost me my arm and I am damn well going to get my arm's worth."

For a second he could only stare, and then he felt his heart reply: "With interest."

"I had better." And she kissed him again.

"Awwww!" Jubliee exclaimed. "Yay! They've gotten together! Finally! I'm so happy!"

"Uh…" Kitty said slowly. "Are you two sure this is a good idea? Getting together after going through a traumatic experience is generally a terrible idea."

"Oh psssh," Jubilee said, waving her hand at Kitty in dismissal. "It's not like they just met. I didn't say 'finally' for the fun of it, you know. Okay, well, I did a little bit. But point is, this had been a long time coming."

"If they were getting together because of mutual attraction I wouldn't have a problem with it. But Rogue just made the whole thing sound like a financial transaction. Getting into a relationship because one person feels like they owe the other is a terrible idea."

Gambit broke off the kiss.

"Shut up, Kitty," Rogue snapped, then glared up at Gambit. "You're not listening to her, are you?"

Kitty leaned towards Jubilee and gestured to Rogue and Gambit. "This is the power dynamic I'm worried about."

Jubilee looked thoughtful, like a war was going on inside her head.

"Rogue," Gambit said softly, while another war between what he felt, what he knew, and what Kitty had said went on in his own head. Judging from the way Rogue searched his face, his poker face was back in position. "If I'm going to get control over my emotions, I can't let them make decisions for me. Though, I don't see how the decision to date can be anything but emotional. I guess I have to make sure that the right emotions are influencing my decision."

He took a step back. Rogue's hand fell to her side as she shook her head, her eyes inflamed.

"No. No, Remy. No, I'm sick of this," she said. "I'm sick of all the waiting around. I'm sick of trying to get over you. I'm sick of knowing you and I could be together if you weren't afraid of hurting me. Well, I have been hurt. People get hurt. That's life. Running away isn't going to stop people from getting hurt." Tears pooled in her eyes. "Stop running away from me."

Gambit was silent as he tried to pull his thoughts together. "I'm not going to date you out of guilt or because I owe you. And believe me, I know I owe you. I owe you big time—"

"Remy—"

"I'm going to date you because I adore you. Because I care about you more than…more than anyone else in my life." Even as he said the words he was amazed at just how deeply he meant them. "I'm going to date you because I'm done being patient trying to get an handle on my powers so I don't hurt you." He smiled faintly. "And I'm done running away."

Jubilee sighed happily as Rogue threw herself into Gambit's arms and he kissed her soundly.

Kitty eyed her friends carefully. "I sure hope so. I really do."

Gambit pulled back ever so slightly, just enough so he could move his lips by her ear. "I think we should perhaps continue the discussion we started in the medlab, away from the peanut gallery."

"I think so too."

* * *

Gambit followed Rogue into her bedroom. His nervousness had been growing with every step away from the rec room. He closed the door behind them and watched for a moment as Rogue walked in the direction of the bed, then stopped and stepped back, and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. He supposed she was just as nervous about this long overdue talk as he was.

Her radio was already on and playing softly in the background, which told Gambit she'd been having issues with her Tinnitus lately. He wasn't all that surprised. He was certain this was a very stressful time for her.

"So, uh," Gambit said, standing only a few steps away from the door. "I gather me touching you is okay now."

"Oh, um, yeah." A faint smile crossed her lips. "Looks like Dr Ashton was right. It was just a knee-jerk reaction, though I didn't really know I was pass that until I kissed you just now." She took a deep breath. "It's been nagging at me the whole time you were away."

"I'm sorry, maybe I should've—"

"No." Rogue shook her head. "No, as angry as I was that you left I… You did the right thing. For both of us, really. I think If you had been around, I would've forced myself to touch you just to prove I wasn't afraid of it and I suspect that would've made things worse." She turned towards the windows. "Besides, if you needed to leave to help you get control over your powers so that this wouldn't happen again, then you had to leave."

She put her hand on the window frame, then turned around to face him.

"It did help, right?"

Gambit nodded. "Yeah. Got to clear my head. Actually ended up spending a lot of time in casinos, playing poker. I'm going to be trying to keep a poker face going. I figure if I can get some control over how emotions effect my facial expressions and body language and stuff, that'll go a long way to stopping emotion-induced explosions. So, yeah, I'm planning to continue to visit casinos."

"Huh." She cocked her head at him slyly. "Won't that cut into your Danger Room programming time?"

Gambit grinned at her. "Probably. But I think getting control is more important than finishing the suburbia program."

"Are you ever going to finish it?"

"I sure hope so, but it doesn't much feel like it." He took a deep breath. "Rogue, I know I said this before but… I'm really sorry about blowing up your arm. And I'm not expecting you to forgive me—"

"It was an accident, Remy," Rogue cut in disgustedly. "Of course I forgive you. That doesn't mean I won't end up taking out my frustration on you. I've already been taking it out on everyone else."

"Well, unlike everyone else, I actually deserve it," and he held up his hand before Rogue could object to that as well. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm here for you. No matter what. Anything you need, just let me know."

Rogue snorted. "Yeah, that's what everyone else has been saying too. I lost my arm. That doesn't make me helpless. It sucks," and she turned back towards the window, "but it doesn't make me helpless."

Gambit took a deep breath and slowly walked towards her. "'Course it doesn't. Good thing too, otherwise I might have had to go to someone else next time I need help and I would much rather go to you. You being the one person I know I can trust to have my back."

Once again, he was amazed at just how deeply he meant his words. It felt strange to say out loud that he trusted someone. Two years ago he didn't think he'd be able to trust anyone ever again.

"You've been doing a pretty good job of looking after me ever since we met," Gambit went on. "Helping you through a mess that I put you in is not my preferred method of paying you back. It is quite literally the very least I can do." He sighed. "Like I said, I owe you big time."

Rogue slowly turned back around to look at him. Without a word, she embraced him. He held her close.

"Let's not assign blame," Rogue said softly. "Let's just not. I know we both have our reasons to blame ourselves, but I've been thinking about it, and… I can only conclude that what happened was an inevitable accident."

Gambit blanched at the word 'inevitable', even as his first conversation with Storm after the accident came to mind.

"Let's just…" Rogue sighed. "Let's just accept what happened and move on." She pulled back and looked him in the eye. "And I need you to promise me that when I have an angry outburst born of frustration where I start assigning blame, that you won't listen to me. Or at least, don't take it personally. I mean, I'm going to try to keep my temper in check. I really don't want to hurl abuse at anyone." She sighed again. "But I have been. I've been a real bitch the last month, and I hate it, and please don't go telling me it's understandable or you deserve it or whatever. It's terrible behaviour on my part." She grinned. "Maybe I should be taking Storm's emotion control class."

Gambit grinned back at her. "Maybe. But in the meantime, I will take any outbursts of temper as a opportunity to get my own emotional control practice in."

Rogue chuckled sourly.

"How had it been going, anyway? Learning to use your left hand, I mean?" he asked.

"I've been picking it up faster than I thought I would. I guess that's what happens when you literally have no choice about which hand you use." She shrugged slightly. "Hopefully that means my bursts of temper are waning, but I really shouldn't be taking my frustrations out on other people. I really shouldn't."

Gambit nodded slowly. He had a distinct feeling he'd missed out on some spectacular displays of temper while he was away.

Rogue lifted her hand to his face. Her fingers lightly skimmed the skin below his eye. Gambit fell quiet, conscious of the fact that his eyes were a different colour.

"When you look in a mirror, do you see a stranger?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Gambit replied after a moment's pause, then snorted. "It's so stupid. When I was a kid I hated my eyes. They made me stand out, and when you're living on the streets, the last thing you want is to stand out. I wanted nothing more than to have normal eyes and now that I have them," his smile was ironic, "I just want my old eyes back." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "'Course, they will come back when this Cure variant worn off, so I can't complain, really."

Rogue nodded. "You can understand, though. At least a little."

"You hate looking in the mirror too, huh?"

"So much. I hate it so much."

She wept. He pulled her in closer, and her tears fell onto his shirt and soaked it. He said nothing, just held her.

Rogue stopped crying after a time, but stayed wrapped up in his arms for a few minutes longer.

"I didn't know you grew up on the street," she said with her head still resting on his shoulder.

"Huh." Gambit mulled that over for a moment. "I guess I was never really able to talk about my past with anyone. That's something that's pretty full of a lot of intense emotion."

"I noticed. Any time your past came up, or most times, you'd charge something," Rogue said, and lifted her head to look at him. "Would you tell me something? You don't have to tell me much just… a little…"

"Enough to relieve some curiosity?" Gambit asked teasingly. "Sure, um. I was raised in a street gang. I have no idea who my parents may have been, it was more of a communal raising, I guess. I learnt to steal from day one, basically. I'm a pretty good pickpocket, I have to say."

Rogue grinned at him.

"That's actually how I met the guy who ended up adopting me," he went on and hesitated when he felt the swell of emotions the memory of Jean-Luc LeBeau provoked. If he hadn't taken the Cure variant, his clothes would be charged up now. "He caught me picking his pocket. He was a far, far better thief than I was. I like to think I'm better than him now, but he's pretty wily, so who knows."

He pulled away from Rogue, and turned his back on her.

"Something happened, didn't it?" Rogue asked. "Whatever stress that you were under that made your powers flare up out of control… Your dad… You don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with."

Gambit took a deep breath as he thought things over. Between meeting up with Rubix and not having to worry about blowing anyone up right now…

"I'm not comfortable. Not at all," he said, "But I need to deal with this."

He swallowed, looked back at her, and then gestured to the bed. "Mind if we sit?"

"Not at all," Rogue said and scooted in to do just that.

He sighed as he sat down beside her. "My father is the leader of the Thieves Guild in New Orleans," he said, his eyes trained on the floor. "There's a rival Guild, the Assassins. There's been a war going on between us for, I dunno, centuries, probably. It didn't effect me until Jean-Luc adopted me. My best friend at the time was Bella Donna Boudreaux. She was the daughter of the leader of the Assassin's Guild." Gambit glanced slyly up at Rogue. "You're probably smelling a plot to end the war between the Guilds by marrying us off right about now."

Rogue giggled. "I did wonder if that was where this was going."

"As long as you don't think I'm making this all up, we're good."

"Nah, you're too imaginative for that. Besides," Rogue looked at him seriously, "this is something that is far too important to lie about."

"Yeah. It is." He cleared his throat. "So, yeah. Arranged marriage. Yay me. I think it's safe to say that was the main source of stress that caused my powers to flare up."

Rogue nodded.

"The other thing, person, actually, was Bella Donna's brother." Gambit swallowed. He couldn't believe he was about to say this out loud. "He hated me from the day he laid eyes on me, even before the betrothal happened. He… On our wedding day, he… He challenged me to a duel." Gambit threw her a look. "Don't ask. I know it's very antiquated, but the Guild follow some pretty antiquated rules. It's bizarre how they can be so modern in some areas and still continue to follow ridiculous traditions like duelling."

"I wasn't going to say anything." Rogue looked at him expectantly.

"I… He… Thing is, he was a better fighter than me. Always had been. He was an assassin, it's what they do," Gambit said. "And it wasn't meant to be a duel to the death, but I knew Julien. If he could kill me, he would, and damn the consequences." Gambit closed his eyes. "So… so… yeah… Got in a duel to the death that wasn't supposed to be. Straw that broke the camel's back."

He could still remember it so clearly.

When the silence drew out, Rogue spoke: "Is… is that when your powers flared up? You killed him instead of him killing you?"

Gambit nodded.

"No one believed me," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "I'd always had good control of my powers before. They didn't believe me when I said it was an accident. I can't go back. There was talk about executing me but I got exiled instead. I don't even know how Marius got talked into agreeing to that but…"

Only then did Gambit realised he was clutching his hands so tight, his knuckles were white.

Rogue wrapped her arm around him.

"I keep seeing it. Julien's body, or what was left of it," he said. "It's like he's haunting me." He paused, then gave a short, bitter chuckle. "He probably would haunt me, given the chance."

They sat in silence for a time.

"Thanks," Gambit said finally. "I think… I think I needed to verbalise that more than I realised."

"Yeah, I get that." Rogue shook her head. "We're a fine pair, aren't we? Got more issues than a comic book publisher."

Gambit snickered and threw a grin at her. "I think we do, in fact, make a very fine pair."

Rogue grinned back at him, her eyes still puffy from her recent crying. "Me too."

* * *

Rogue wanted to do something special for their first date, but she didn't want to go out in public because she hated being stared at. Given their feelings about mirrors, Gambit decided that they'd both be happier if they didn't go to the trouble of getting dressed up.

And thus it was that Gambit picked up Rogue at her bedroom door just after six. With a flourish, he presented her with a single red orchid in a little glass vase.

"Oh!" she exclaimed lightly as she reached out to accept it. "It's beautiful." She darted a look at him. "And if you say 'just like you'…"

Gambit grinned at her. "Not only is it beautiful, just like you, it's also full of love, passion, desire, strength, and courage."

She blinked at him. "You looked up its meaning?"

"I wanted to get you something a bit more imaginative than red roses." His eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Well it is that. And it's even more beautiful now." She smiled at the orchid, then set it aside on her dresser. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

From there they headed down to the small coastline that was part of the estate.

"We're not, um, we're not going to your place, are we?" Rogue asked tentatively when she realised where they were headed.

"Oh no. Not on our first date, chère," Gambit replied cheerfully. "That would be awfully presumptive of me."

Rogue giggled.

"Nah, I'm actually set up near the new boathouse. Well, the only boathouse now, technically. Not too close though."

Sure enough, close to the shore, but not too close to the boathouse, was one of the school's pavilion tents. Inside was a table and chairs, and the meal Gambit prepared earlier, covered up so that it wouldn't get cold. Ornate camping lights lit up the room, and a portable stereo played softly.

"I thought about having a picnic, but it's windy. I figured we'd enjoy ourselves move if sand wasn't being blown into our rapidly cooling food," Gambit said with a grin. "I hope it meets with your approval?"

Rogue sat down at the table and smiled up at him while the wind continued to blow outside. "It's wonderful."

"Now it is a little bit of a shame we aren't having this at my place," Gambit went on as he uncovered the foil from their plates, "because it smells amazing right now."

Rogue grinned as she looked down at the plate. Bite-sized pieces of red meat were mixed in with bite-sized pieces of vegetables, smothered in a brown sauce and sitting on a bed of rice. She gave an investigative sniff.

"Why? Does it smell like this?" she asked.

"And how. Slow-cookers are amazing." Gambit took his seat and gestured to the food. "This meat is so tender, it will melt in your mouth."

Conversation mostly ceased as they ate, with the occasional comment from Rogue about how he was right concerning the tenderness of the meat and how delicious it was.

After their meal, hand in hand they walked onto the beach in bare feet and braved the cooling water for a couple of minutes. After a time, they got out of the wind again and sat down to enjoy dessert.

They alternated between light chatter and simply enjoying each others company in silence, bar for the stereo that continued to play softly in the background. They spent a little more time on the beach, and watched the sunset as their evening drew to a close.

* * *

Gambit kissed Rogue goodnight outside her bedroom door.

"Thanks for a wonderful evening, Remy," she said.

She leaned in to kiss him back with fervour, her hand on his shoulder, and his hands on her hips.

"Oh hey! You're back!" came Bobby's voice down the hall. "Have you heard the news, yet?"

Rogue pulled back slightly and threw Bobby a look, while Gambit took the liberty of kissing her neck. "That you have terrible timing? We knew that."

"No, about the Cure," Bobby said. "They just announced it. Well, not 'just' announced it. It was a couple of hours ago now."

"Nope, haven't heard, don't really care right now, either," Rogue said, and she dropped her hand from Gambit's shoulder to turn the knob on her door.

"Oh, well, the Cure's going to wear off," Bobby said, grinning broadly. "Congratulations, Rogue! You're going to get your arm back."

Rogue froze. Gambit stopped kissing her neck to look at Bobby, who was standing there looking so happy. Gambit felt like smacking Bobby's head against the wall.

"If this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny," Rogue said coldly.

"No joke! Worthington Sr just did this huge announcement thing. Said that, um… a couple of the people involved in the human trials have had their powers come back completely in the last seven months, and another 30-something percent are experiencing the gradual return of their powers," Bobby replied "I don't remember the exact numbers, but I'm sure it's all over the net by now. Anyway, Worthington said that mutants might expect to see the return of their mutations as early as August this year. I guess there wasn't a very long waiting period between the human trials and the public release."

"Well, given the flavour mutants were in back then, I can't say I'm surprised they pushed things through," Gambit said cut in. "Seriously, Bobby, couldn't this have—"

"Oh!" Bobby snapped his fingers. "That was the other thing! Vange was one of the trials."

"What?" Rogue asked.

"Yeah. Apparently while all the other trials are getting their powers back gradually, Vange was the sole exception: she had no warning at all. Her powers came back just like, well," he snapped his fingers again, "that. I guess that's why Worthington took charge of her legal defence." He shrugged, then grinned again. "Isn't this great? You could have your arm back before the year is out!"

"No, this is not great," Rogue snapped at him. "This is terrible. This is the worst possible news. How dare you spoil my date with Remy with this… this… Oooh, that's it. You're jealous."

"W-what?" Bobby asked, looking so confused Gambit wanted to smack him for being so oblivious.

"Yes, that's what happening here. You're jealous, so you thought you would come along and ruin my perfect night with your stupid lies!" Rogue snarled.

"But… It's not a lie… They just said… You can check for yourself…" Bobby stammered. "Don't you want your arm back?"

"Sure I do. I'd love to have my arm back," Rogue said as she threw her bedroom door open. "But I don't want it back if it means I have to take my powers back too. I would rather have one arm forever!"

"Seriously Bobby!" called Kitty's voice down the hall, and Gambit looked past Bobby to see she and Piotr walking towards them. "You had to go and tell her? You couldn't have waited until tomorrow?"

Bobby looked between Kitty and Rogue. "But I… I thought… I thought she'd be excited." He looked helplessly at Rogue.

"Did you not learn anything from your break up?" Kitty demanded, sounding exasperated as she quickly closed the distance between herself and Rogue. "Look, don't worry about it. There's no proof," Kitty threw a nasty glare at Bobby before looking back at Rogue, "that the Cure is going to wear off everyone, or that it's even going to wear off everyone completely. From what I've gathered, the number in the trial was pretty small so any statistics are probably not going to be an accurate indication of what's going to happen. Plus, it's clearly still in progress, so it's much too soon to start worrying about this." Kitty glared at Bobby again. "Or getting excited by it either."

"What?" Bobby asked defensively.

"Thanks Kitty," Rogue said tersely. "I'm going to bed now."

With that, she stepped into her room and slammed the door closed.

Gambit, Kitty, and Piotr all turned on Bobby.

"I thought she'd be happy!" Bobby exclaimed.

"No, you didn't think at all," Gambit replied coldly.

Without another word, Gambit stalked down the hall. He kept going, not back to the beach so he could pack up, but to look for Storm. He found her in the rec room with Logan.

"Oh hello, Remy," Storm said as Gambit came striding in. "Logan and I were just talking about you. I was thinking we might start a regular poker game here, once a week. I thought it might give you a chance to practice your poker face without having to put down money on it."

"Ain't as much fun without stakes," Logan said with a grunt, and narrowed his eyes at Gambit. "What's up?"

"Bobby just blurted out the news about the Cure wearing off to Rogue. She's pissed," Gambit replied and stared down at Storm. "You knew, didn't you? You knew the Cure was going to wear off."

Storm sighed. "Yes, I and Dr Ashton knew. When Hank McCoy found out, he arranged to have a copy of the data sent to us, but we had to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement. We could not discuss it until after the formal announcement to the public was made."

"And that's the real reason why you wanted me to take the variant."

"It was a strong, contributing factor, but the fact that I had to omit it does not invalidate the other ones I gave you," Storm said firmly. "I was not happy about not being able to tell you either—"

"You could've just told me, NDA be damned," Gambit cut in.

Storm raised her eyebrows. "And as your friend, I wanted to. But as Headmistress of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, I have a responsibility to everyone here. Sometimes that means I have to make decisions I do not like."

"How's Rogue doing?" Logan said before Gambit could retort.

"Not happy. She's in her room," Gambit replied.

Storm stood. "I was going to speak with her in the morning, but I suppose I should go talk to her now."

"Kitty tried to do some damage control but…" Gambit shrugged. "Bobby made it out to be a good thing. Like all she would have to do is wait until her powers come back, absorb Logan, and regrow her arm."

"Oh really?" said Logan. "I sense Bobby and I are going to have a nice little chat."

"May you succeed where the rest of us have failed," Gambit replied.

"Honestly," Storm said with a sigh, "for someone so smart, he can have terrible tunnel vision. You would think having been absorbed by Rogue on several occasions he of all people would understand…" She shook her head. "I will go speak to Rogue."

"Might be a good idea to speak with the whole webseries team too," Gambit suggested. "Rogue particularly is probably about to get bombarded with messages about this."

"Oh yes…" a slight frown creased Storm's forehead. "Yes, that does add another layer of difficulty. Well, I was planning to have a staff meeting about this regardless. It may be of use to have a webseries team meeting as well. But, first things first."

She left. Logan reached for his beer as Gambit sat down.

"What am I doing?" Gambit asked himself and stood back up again. "I have stuff I need to pack up." He held up his hands as he left the room. "Later, Logan."

* * *

After Gambit finished packing up the tent pavilion, furniture, and everything else from his date with Rogue, he headed back towards the mansion. He had a few small maintenance jobs he needed to do, and then he was going to work on the suburbia program some more.

On his way, he noticed that the light in Rogue's room was on. He started heading for the wall before he realised he'd even made the decision, and climbed up the wall to her bedroom window. He hesitated briefly before peeking inside. Rogue was alone, sitting on the bed with her knees tucked up under her chin.

Gambit knocked on the window.

Rogue glanced over at the window. Her eyes went wide and in a flash she was off the bed and opening up the window.

"What in the world are you doing?" she exclaimed. "Get in here."

"Just checking to see how you are," he replied as he climbed in through the window.

"How'd you even get up here?" She looked out and looked down the side of the stone wall.

"Seriously? You've seen me and Kurt climb up the mansion before. All the way to the top, no less," Gambit replied.

"I know, but still!" Rogue threw up her hands and shook her head at him.

Gambit chuckled. "What can I say? I've been scaling buildings since the day I first learnt to climb." He grinned slyly. "I've climbed up buildings way harder than this."

Rogue shut the window again. "Of course you have."

"So, ah, did you want to talk about it?" Gambit asked. "Or did you want me to distract you? Or just leave and let you have some time alone?"

Rogue sighed. "I think I'm done talking about it for now. I just had a good long chat with Storm." She slouched against the wall. "I really wish she had been the one to break the news and not Bobby. Not that the news was any different, but Storm knows tact."

Gambit nodded. "Yeah, I can see how that would make a huge difference."

"And even though Storm never liked that I decided to take the Cure," Rogue pushed herself off the wall and began to pace, "she never made me feel bad about it, she never treated me any different. And she didn't get all 'I told you so' or anything just now."

Rogue slammed her fist into the wall.

"I don't want my powers back."

"I know."

"No, you don't know. I really Do Not Want my powers back," she said. "I feel like I'm going to be sick."

"I wish I could promise you that wouldn't happen," Gambit replied softly.

"I wouldn't believe you if you did. Damnit. Why is this all happening at once? I'm already working on living my life with one arm when I'm used to having two. I don't need to be dealing with my powers coming back too! I don't want to be dealing with it at all. But I have to, 'cause it'll be worse if I don't and…"

Gambit listened patiently while Rogue ranted a little longer.

Finally, Rogue sat down on the side of the bed. "Sorry. Thanks for listening, but sorry you had to put up with that."

"You're not someone I 'put up' with, ma chère," Gambit replied as he sat down beside her. "We are going to get through this. All of this. Together. If you need me to listen while you vent some steam, I'll listen."

Rogue sighed. "I appreciate it. I think right now I'd really rather punch something." She held up her left hand. "We have not gotten to the re-working my fighting style part yet."

Gambit nodded. "Want me to teach you some kicks? Well, more kicks?"

"You do know some pretty cool kicks," Rogue said thoughtfully. "Sure, sounds great. Can we start now?"

"Sure," Gambit said, and rose to his feet.

"Good," Rogue said as she took his hand in hers. "I really want to beat the stuffing out of something."

"This can be arranged."

* * *

**End!**

And now that it's all official that the Cure's wearing off (at least some people, anyway, heh), I can now address the elephant in the room:

Miss Elephant, what a pleasure it is to have you with us. I hope you've been enjoying the series so far. I understand you reached the same conclusion that Bobby did and have some concerns? Oh yes, I can see why you might be worried that I may have blown up Rogue's arm just for the shock factor and there's no substance to it at all. Well, let me assure you that I have every intention of taking this seriously and want do it justice to the best of my ability.

Limbs do not grow back in real life (unless you're a lizard or starfish or something). It can be difficult to explore real life issues in comicbook universes where there are so many easy outs. Rogue could absorb someone with a healing factor. Elixir or the Morlock Healer could show up and heal it. Rogue could have an encounter with Shi'ar medical technology. Rest assured that if/when Rogue's arm does grow back, it cannot erase the fact that she lost it in the first place.

**Next Story:** I just need to figure out a few casting issues and then I'll start writing. As always, I'll begin posting after I have enough chapters written that I can be confident about finishing in a timely fashion.


End file.
